I touch things. Feel. Pet. Caress. I connect with my hands. My arms. My lips. My feet.
My first impression of Guatemala was one that made my eyes leak. The glassy ripple of a lake shimmered across my pupils as I witnessed a surprise homecoming at Guatemala City airport.
Last November, I entered the Canada Writes Short Story competition. My entry didn't make the long list, but I thought I'd share it here.
As another year descends into dusk, and I think of my own wishes, resolutions, goals, I hope that over the next twelve months you… >> Read words that move your soul, in… Read More
Her lust had its big bang somewhere between 1992 and 1994. She didn’t know its name at the time. Only its hunger. The longings that ricocheted across her still crystalizing body were… Read More
I’m sitting at a desk. In a large rented bedroom with a single bed, dresser drawers, and clothing rack. The ancient wood floors squeal when stepped on, much to the chagrin of… Read More
There have been leaping jellybeans inside me. They made me move in ways I’ve never bent before. They made my heart ba-boom to the stars and back. They clenched my lungs into… Read More
There are places you go, you travel, that just graze the skin. You’re there and you see and you enjoy but you’re never really inside the place and the place is never… Read More
I found a Cuban coin in my purse today. And I wore sandals still coated with Havana’s streets. It’s been a month since I returned. And I swear there’s still dust in… Read More
Painting pictures with words.
I flirt with words, spin sentences, and dance with metaphors.
Tongue tickling cheek.